


Life As We Know It

by loverlupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Get Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, a little bit of a song fic, but not really, just some classic rock, slow burn kinda, the prank (fifth year)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:27:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29681160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loverlupin/pseuds/loverlupin
Summary: After an accident during the March 1976 moon, the Marauders navigate through not being able to go to the Shrieking Shack with Remus anymore, the ever-constant meddling of Severus Snape, and relationships. Come May is more change than any of them would have ever expected - sending them in a turmoil of mixed feelings and much more.
Relationships: Alice Longbottom/James Potter, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Mary Macdonald/Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

Remus was always used to the feeling of waking up and seeing stark white lights, feeling the stiff sheets, and tasting the aftermath of vile potions that he’d taken in the Shrieking Shack. He never got used to the chill that ran down his spine, nor the sharp bursts of pain that were in new places every month. It was always his hip, never his legs, and everywhere else was a mystery - until he tried to move, that is.

For as long as he could remember, Sirius was always the first one to be there in the mornings. This tradition had stretched back to their first year, even when he didn’t have a clue as to what kind of monster he was. He’d sit there in silence and mask his confused thoughts for the sake of their friendship. Even the memory of it made Remus’ heart swell. It made him even more grateful that the monthly visits carried over to their fifth year, despite him now knowing the truth.

He opened his eyes and did the usual moaning and groaning, not used to being in his own body again. It was expected for Sirius’ hand to be with his, his other hand on his arm. He’d always encourage him to take it easy, shushing his feeble complaints and sending his hand up to make its way through his hair. Remus had always obliged. This time, however, there was none of that. The face of James Potter was in front of him. Instead of its usual cocky grin, there was a grimace and a look of him trying to hide something from him.

He cut to the chase before James could say anything. It wasn’t worth tiptoeing around it - he’d like to know what the werewolf had done this time. One other time, Peter had reported to him that he’d killed a bunny. It made him remorseful for weeks. He doubted he could ever feel that bad again. 

“What’s wrong?”

James looked hesitant. His fingers flew up to mess up his hair - something he usually did to impress Evans. This time, it only promoted the narrative that a bad thing had happened, and that it was all his fault.

“James, what did I do?”

“Moony, I don’t want you to upset yourself over this, but Sirius got a little mucked up last night.”

“Is he okay? Did I-?” his eyes widened with fear. The worst possible thing was automatically supplied to him, his mind telling him that he must have bitten him. To transform a friend (or anyone) meant having to leave Hogwarts for good. That, and something unimaginable. The Ministry would surely get involved.

“No! Remus, Animagi don’t become werewolves when they’re bitten, I promise.”

Remus doubted his sureness, considering no textbooks had given them this information when they had researched it. No one in history had considered helping one of his “kind”, let alone becoming illegal magical animals - which risked far worse than Azkaban. Yet, he prompted him to say more, since it was clear that there weren’t two werewolves in the Marauders this time.

“Well, last night started out normal. We all rough-housed, Peter supervised to make sure it’d be alright, you sniffed around the door to try and get out. The usual. Then we went out once it was late enough. Uh, then, you just sort of… kept running. Sirius was the only one able to keep up, and he was still a good ten paces behind you. He ended up tripping on some roots in the forest. His, uh, blood made you go a little crazy. It was good for coercing you back to the Shack, but not so much for him.”

Remus shut his eyes while he listened. He didn’t want James to see that there were tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes, nor that he was furious at himself for what he’d done. It made him want to scream. If only his throat wasn’t so raw, then he just might have. 

“He needs Pomfrey,” he said finally, exhaling a shaky breath. “Make up an excuse, say he went and flew around the Forest at midnight. I’m sure there’s some creature in there that can account for his… injuries.”

“I’m sorry, Remus.”

“Tell him to come here now. He needs help.”

“I’m really so-”

“Go, James. Please.”

He opened his eyes when footsteps signaled James leaving. Despite the fact that he never cried, he couldn’t help but let himself. It wasn’t the worst possible scenario, but he’d been forced to accept that they wouldn’t be able to accompany him during moons any longer. When he’d reluctantly thought about it before, it was always for some silly reason. Working, families, having children. Not something as horrible and as his fault as this was. 

***

“Sirius, Moony said you need to see Pomfrey.”

“Then she’ll kno-”

“Listen!” James hissed. “Last night, you were flying above the Forest to clear your head, understand? You fell off your broom and were attacked by some magical creature, along with a particularly angry tree. That’s how you got your bloody knee - no other reason.”

Sirius nodded. He swore under his breath when he stood, leaning on James for support. They both looked over to the occupied bed at a loud snore from its inhabitant (Peter), who’d fallen asleep immediately after being assured that no one else had turned and that they’d handle it. He was infamous for sleeping even longer than Remus in the mornings after the moon. Then, they got back to looking at each other.

“How’s Remus?”

“The usual, I suppose. About you, though, it’s worse than the bunny.”

Sirius ran a hand up his face and through his hair, sighing. Remus had always been sensitive about what happened during moons, but solemn enough that they never wanted to hide the truth from him. The bunny was damaging enough that he skipped lessons for longer than usual. His excuse to Pomfrey was him not recuperating properly, which was true, in a way. 

“Can I talk to him?”

“Let him, first. I think he needs to sort it out with himself and hopefully realize that it’s not the end of the world.”

“That’s not fair! He’s Moony! Self-deprecating Moony! I can’t let him do that to himself.”

“He’s not a child, Pads. He wouldn’t even let me apologize to him, okay? Just let it rest - at least until you’re not so obviously hurt.”

Sirius reluctantly agreed. He hated to see Remus go off by himself and work things out with his own mind, but James was right. It only made sense for him to make the first move with these things. That, and his knee was getting progressively bloodier, soaking through the towel they’d hastily wrapped around it. If he didn’t get attention for it soon, he’d be even further hastened from talking to him.

They set off at a relatively slow pace, dodging questions from the curious first years that were beginning to make their way down to breakfast. Both of them chose to ignore the fact that it would be suspicious if none of them showed up to lessons or meals that day. It was fairly easy to overlook it since they still had more pressing matters. Sirius kept having to spell the blood to disappear when it trailed behind him. 

A good thing about Marauder's privilege is that most teachers they passed elected to ignore the predicament they’d gotten themselves in. Their wild tales were not something to be entertained by before eight in the morning. With that being said, a very angry McGonagall dragged them the rest of the way to the Hospital Wing.

“Minnie,” Sirius started, attempting his usual charm after explaining the made up story. It never worked - and this was no exception. 

“Out of bed! Again, Mr. Black! I’ll have you know that you’ve set my retirement date back five years, at this point. As for you, Mr. Potter-” 

“I didn’t do anything!” he interjected. “Honest!”

“-You are to go to lessons as is, understand? That goes for Pettigrew, as well.”

They shared a look. She was the only person for miles that could anticipate them. Eventually, James sighed and nodded, turning around so he could make a quick ascent to Gryffindor Tower. Peter’s beauty sleep (they referred to it as such behind his back) was not something to be reckoned with. It would be a bigger chore than pulling off skipping. 

The rest of the walk to the Hospital Wing was spent in silence. She hardly slowed her strides for Sirius, the “tough love” aspect of her personality emphasizing on the “tough” part that morning. He was glad to be rid of her once Madam Promfrey saw the state of his leg. Wincing at her shriek (mostly for Remus’ part, who he was sure was listening), he told her the story that James had fed to him. He was given treatment without another question.

A strange potion that he gulped down made it feel loads better. Its blood still oozed, but she said that a magical wound needed to bleed out, unless it was harmful to the overall blood flow of the person. In his case, it was not, so he was instructed to wait until it was done. Then, she said, she’d be back to check on him.

The nearly comforting silence of the room allowed him to contemplate what to do about Remus. He suspected the boy was behind the curtains that were drawn a few beds away from him, considering the rest of the ward was unoccupied. In doglike nature, he rolled to his side, watching the curtains in hopes that Remus would appear behind them. He knew that even if he did, it would not be the normal Remus before him. It would be a strange, regretful version, beaten down by his own thoughts and feelings on the night’s events.

Lunch time was a quiet affair. He saw Pomfrey bustle about, disappearing behind Remus’ ward with a tray of food. She came out looking subdued. He hoped that he hadn’t let slip what he’d done. Fortunately, when it was his turn to be served, she said nothing that would indicate it. With a quick check up on his knee and assurance that he’d be free to go by the end of lessons, she was gone, not looking as though she’d come back for a long time.

Remus must have noticed this, too. He hobbled out from bed, his threadbare jumper covering what Sirius knew was a mass of scars. His eyes were red, his fingernails torn, and his hair a mess. It was always up to Sirius to be the one to fix it. He felt a pang of sadness hit him.

“Hey,” he said. Remus had stopped by his bed, staring at his leg. He was transfixed by its bloodiness. Sirius hoped he wouldn’t start crying - he didn’t know if he’d be able to overcome the guilt of it. None of it was either of their faults, but it didn’t remotely feel that way.

“Hi.”

“Come sit. Please.”

“I hurt you,” was all he said. It was whispered, as though he was afraid to admit it. His eyes filled with tears. Sirius desperately wanted to reach out and pull him close, telling him it wasn’t to do with him. Yet, he heeded James’ past words.

“Rem, it wasn’t you. I promise.”

“James said that I made it worse.”

“You didn’t!” he said earnestly. “He kept you off of me.”

“And what if he didn’t?”

He had no response. Remus lowered himself on a nearby chair, putting his head in his hands for a long minute. When he emerged, it was clear that he’d hidden himself so Sirius wouldn’t have to see him upset. His face gave away that he’d come to a conclusion even he didn’t accept.

“I’m doing moons by myself again.”

“You’ll hurt yourself, Remus!” he argued immediately. He stopped reigning himself back. It wasn’t worth letting Remus do this to himself.

“At least I don’t feel sick to my stomach from something self-inflicted.”

“You didn’t hurt me!”

“I could’ve. And that’s enough-”

“-But-”

“-Sirius! Please,” he sighed, returning to keeping his face from view. However, he kept talking, his voice lined with tears and exhaustion. “You guys mean so much to me. More than I mean to you, okay? I can’t lose the one thing I have in this world.”

He looked at him again, except it was with earnestness. It was a sad, pleading expression that forced him to go along. As much as he wanted to fight and fight and fight (in the fashion of his upbringing), he slumped further into the pillows, saying “Okay,”. He heard Remus exhale.

“Thank you.”

Then he was walking back to his own bed. This time, he kept the curtains open.

***

Remus returned to lessons the day after. March 18th. For a newly turned sixteen year old boy, he looked incredibly sore and malnourished. Sirius knew that he’d be brand new in a week’s time, but the in-between stage was spent trying not to pity him. He reminded himself that he was the same Remus as he’d always been, despite looking like he’d collapse if someone breathed too hard in his general direction.

The meeting they had as soon as he was out of the Hospital Wing (Pomfrey had kept her promise and allowed Sirius out a bit earlier) did not start a friendly one. All of the Marauders piled on Remus’ bed. He was next to Sirius with Peter and James awkwardly cross-legged across from them. Conferencing in a singular bed wasn’t quite as easy as when they were eleven.

Sirius, of course, knew what was coming. He sat in silence next to Remus, allowing Remus’ weight to shift a little more onto him. It was a friendly gesture, done out of tiredness but also to show that he wasn’t too upset. Sirius slipped an arm around him as he realized his intentions. 

“So, Moony, what’s up?” Peter started. He had a knack for knowing when and how to start these conversations. The rest of them would have been happy to sit there in silence, not having the guts to speak up about the obvious: that morning. Remus, taking this as an invitation to start, cleared his throat.

“I’m not going to dawdle, so I’ll tell you both straight up-”

“Both? What about Padfoot?” James questioned. He had straightened up and gotten out of his stupor. Sirius wanted to snort at how stag-like he looked. Slightly put upon, glasses tipped to the side from Quidditch, and his hair messy and windswept. 

“He already knows. So, anyways, I want to do moons alone. I can’t-” he stopped to glare at James for a moment, who’d started protesting the second the words had left his mouth. “-I can’t risk someone getting hurt on my behalf.”

“It wasn’t you!” James echoed what Sirius had said earlier. 

“I know it wasn’t. But what if you hadn’t been able to keep me off of him? Then what? He’d still be in the Hospital Wing.”

There was a beat of uncomfortable silence. No one enjoyed arguing when it originated from something they’d all had to do with. There was no triumph in anyone being in the right, those times.

“Peter, you agree with me, don’t you?” he hoped out loud.

“He’s right, Prongs,” Peter nodded whilst he spoke. “We need to do what’s best for him.”

“Wormtail!” James looked aghast. This was both very James-like and un-James-like at the same time. For one, James was losing his usual cool, which only happened around Evans or when Sirius and Remus were squabbling. With that being said, he was being fiercely protective, which was a trait that only James had amongst the four of them. It was hard not to laugh. 

“What about you, Pads?” he turned to him, seemingly collecting himself in the moments they were all silent. 

Sirius looked down at Remus, who appeared exasperated at the state of their meeting. Their faces were much closer than Sirius had anticipated, forcing him to take a deep breath so he didn’t make a bigger mess of the night. When he got back to the present, Remus was giving him the same pleading expression as he had in the Hospital Wing. 

“It’s his decision,” he mumbled, not trying to seem too upset or too pleased with his words. It worked well enough, considering James didn’t storm off. He only sighed and laid on his back, draped halfway over the edge of the bed. 

“Can we make a deal, Moony?” James addressed him next.  
“Depends.”

“If you get too torn up this next moon, we’re allowed to be there for the one after. So, May.”

“We’ll see,” he didn’t want to fight any longer. Sirius’ arm around him was warm, sleep was getting closer and closer, and he didn’t feel in the mood to make any more decisions. That, and the selfish part of his brain knew that he’d most likely wake up next to an equally sleepy Sirius Black. 

“That’s good enough for me. Our work here is done, right boys? Mischief Managed!”

Sirius shook his head, a grin on his face. What a bloody optimist.


	2. Snape's Wrath (Pt. 1)

Remus seemed to be in better spirits, a nap and the knowledge that his friends would allow him his privacy finally behind him. He groaned softly when Sirius told him it was time for homework, holding onto him tighter for a few seconds before accepting it. They sat up properly and discussed where James and Peter had gone off to. Kitchens, common room, or detention. The last was the most probable.

His bony fingers were weak from the transformation that still wasn’t a day behind them. They shook a little when he started writing his next potions essay. He glanced up at Sirius, who looked concerned, assuring him that he was okay. Each of them fell into their own rhythm of working after that.

“What do you think about our next prank, Moony?” Sirius said once a solid half an hour had passed. Remus was surprised there’d been silence until that point, considering his usual boisterous nature.

“What about it?”

“D’you have any ideas?”

He smiled at the thought of one he’d been pondering in the days leading up to the moon. Snivellus had been particularly bothersome, sending hexes in his direction whenever they met in the corridor. He supposed he deserved it with their last prank, but knew that there was an ulterior motive. It would have been beyond impressive to suspect that the quiet, do-good boy was the main perpetrator in transforming the Slytherin common room into a dungeon full of David Bowie songs. Therefore, it was due to his immense scarring. Severus was bound to find out why eventually.

“You know me well. I was thinking about charming all of their banners to be in support of Gryffindor during the Quidditch final. Maybe their uniforms, too.”

Sirius’ grin widened. 

“That’s my Moony.”

He jumped on his bed (extremely dog-like, Remus noticed) leaning over the essay he’d been working on. Remus rolled it up and set it in his open bag (all he’d need to do was revise it, later), summoning the Charms textbook he’d taken out from the library. A dog-eared page showed Sirius the beginning of a chapter. It told him all he needed to know.

“You’re absolutely brilliant,” he exhaled. “Does Prongs know?”

“‘Course not. I was saving it for the next time he gets a nasty hex from Evans. To lighten the mood, yeah? I’ve already mentioned it to Wormy, though. He found the book for me when I was too tired to - with the moon and everything.”

“Oh, Reggie is going to get quite the nasty shock. Poor chap will resemble his dear old brother,” Sirius adopted an accent that was even more posh than usual, ending his second sentence with infectious laughter. Remus forgot the weight of the heavy book in his lap, joining him in pure bliss. He anticipated the same joy to strike him when they succeeded in two weeks’ time.  
***

Being two weeks closer to the moon was nothing to celebrate about, but the evening before their prank and the Quidditch final was. James was being as insufferable as ever with his list of superstitions, Peter fretting alongside him (as he always did, since he was a chronic worrier). Sirius was nowhere to be found. He explained his absences as detentions, but Remus had never seen him behaving quite as well as he’d been since the last moon. Nevermind that. He was too busy to dwell on the strange cover story since their plan needed cleaning up before showtime.

He was the only one in the right mind (or even there) to iron it out. A meticulous list lay in front of him, each bullet point being something that they were responsible for doing. Abbreviations beside each point were irritably crossed out and rewritten by James when Remus had pointed out that “Padfoot” and “Prongs” started with the same letter and that he shouldn’t be a part of it, anyways. After all, James was one of the biggest parts of the final itself. 

Sighing softly at the constant pacing of James, he felt relief wash over him when Sirius returned from wherever he’d been. He tried not to double check that he hadn’t been off snogging someone in a corridor but was relieved when none of the signs were there. His lips were normal, skin clear, hair still tied back from Potions. He was raised from his stupor when it was evident Sirius had been trying to get his attention.

“Sorry. Prank planning, as usual,” he lied. 

“Do you know what the hell is wrong with Prongs?”

“Quidditch. What else?”

“Unbearable bastard. What’ve you changed?”

“Nothing major - just the usual errors. This time, it was abbreviations for ‘Padfoot’ and ‘Prongs’,” he rolled his eyes. 

“Let me guess, ‘P’ and ‘P’?”

Remus grinned in conformation. Sirius roared with laughter (oh how immature he was), saying “Oi! Prongs!” and calling him on the mistake almost immediately. For a brief moment, things were back to normal, all of them chatting like it was a regular evening. They both groaned when James went back to rocking to and fro, muttering about plays he had yet to review with the team. 

“I might as well get back to this,” Remus stretched, picking his quill back up from where he’d discarded it. 

“Can I join you? We’ll shut the curtains - keep his posh arse out.”

“As if you’re any less posh,” he smiled sweetly, a load of sarcasm seen underneath the superficial layer. 

“I can’t argue with that, Moons.”

They ended the night in a tired heap, half-heartedly singing the chorus to T. Rex’s Metal Guru to drown out James’ antics.   
***

Remus groaned at James shouting the part of The Raspberries Go All The Way that he hadn’t yet made sound better than incoherent screeching. He tossed a pillow in his general direction and grumbled something along the lines of not everyone needing to be up at this hour. It was probably before five, considering it looked like the sun hadn’t been thought of.

“It's a bloody tradition!” he hollered back. His punishment for deterring James Potter’s superstitions was what one would come to expect after almost six years of occupying the same living space: it was infringed upon him like never before. Lyrics were being screamed in his ear and a sweaty teenage boy was rolling around in his bed, tangling his sheets.

“I had a hole in the place where my heart used to be!” he said triumphantly. Remus sighed, taking yet another pillow and beating him with it until he stopped. Then moving to place it over his ears, he was glad to find sleep closer than he’d expected. James must have traipsed along to the common room to “enlighten” the ears of any stragglers from the night before.

Sirius walked over to his bed, collapsing beside him. Peter had been asleep for the entire thing. Lucky bastard, Remus thought, knowing he’d never be able to rest through such turmoil. He felt a lazy arm sling around him, heard a funny insult about James, then was back in a deep sleep.

He dreamt of Snape and Regulus’ faces once they realized what had been done. How furious and hilarious they would look, cheeks comically red from the slight chill in the air. Not only them, but how the entire school would be transfixed. His mind focused on Sirius’ face in particular. He imagined it clearer than anything else. Close by, grinning, their arms a tangle while their gazes somewhat flitted around like everyone else’s. It was what made every prank worth it.

That expression was one that had made his feelings glaringly obvious in the first place. Marauder's pranks were infamous and frequent, meaning Remus had the delicacy of studying his features while everyone else panicked about the state of the castle. Emotion (giddiness in particular) ran high on those days, drowning out everything else in his life. The proximity of the moon never mattered when that face was in front of him, saying “Brilliant, Moons.” or “This is bloody wonderful.”

He was wrenched from his blissful dreams to hear Peter wailing about lateness. It was times like these that Remus regretted befriending such dramatic idiots, but he saw the truth in his words once Peter told them the time. 

“Oh, hell,” he heard Sirius complain from across the room. “It’s all Prongs’ fault, waking us at the crack of dawn!” 

He was hit with a stray sock being thrown from Sirius’ trunk. Dramatic. Idiots. He repeated to himself. Then, it was clear that things would be hitting him unless he got up, so he heeded Peter’s warning of lateness, taking the haphazard undergarments and hurtling them back in Sirius’ direction. This put them into an all out war, articles of clothing flying everywhere. If anyone other than Remus had paid attention in History of Magic that past Thursday, they would have paralleled it to a poor rendition of Elfric the Evil’s rebellion. 

“You wanker!” Peter yelled when dirty boxers were thrown on his head. “I’ll have to change my hat!”

“It’s spring,” Sirius cried. “Even Moony wasn’t going to wear one, and you know how cold he gets.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. The tussle disippiated (even though it was born in fun). They managed to get together as best as they could, Remus jamming his wand in the back pocket of his jeans and throwing on a Gryffindor jumper at the last second. Sirius grabbed his hand for a brief moment to yank him out the door.

No one bothered to care that the three Marauders were leaving for the match much earlier than the rest of them. Tensions were running high - rightly so considering most of the people bustling around had yet to see a final game be Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Remus felt this himself but beat it down under the pretense of having to remember a multitude of spells and protective jinxes.   
***

“Sev! Hurry up!” Lily chided. She tugged him along. His mood was a bit worse than usual, but there wasn’t anything to be upset about, considering it was a day for celebration and house unity. At the least, for him, there was the chance to beat Gryffindor. She viewed the day as promising enough for everyone to look forward to it.

“Coming, Lils.”

“Hey, don’t let Potter and Black get you down.”

“‘S’not them.”

“Is too. It’s always them,” she reminded him. These days, even as Severus seemed to be spending less and less time with her and more and more time with speculated Dark Wizards, they still shared a common enemy. He smiled at her words, to which she pushed him gently towards the pitch.

“It’s Lupin - that’s who.”

She frowned at this. Remus, the quiet, book-loving boy who frequently occupied the Hospital Wing and library, seemed to bother no one. That, and she rarely saw him taunting Severus with the others. Pettigrew would be the one to pick on out of the two less boisterous Marauders.

“How so?”

“He always has those bloody scars. Makes me think he’s,” he paused to angrily kick a rock. “A half-breed.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with those!”

“They’re dangerous. They hunt people just like you, you know.”

“And how would you know that?” Lily asked coldly. She gave him a bit of a rougher poke when he slowed his steps up to the stands. Ignoring the fact that the subject of their conversation was currently waiting below the stairs they were climbing (and making brief eye-contact with her), she continued on. “You’ve never met one, so how’d you know he was one? Let alone a ‘dangerous’ one.”

“They’re all out for blood!” he insisted. “Evil, filthy-”

“Would you shut it?! I’ll go sit with Marlene and Mary if your only topic is degrading some undeserving boy and all of those other people. Which, may I remind you, you don’t personally know.”

She stormed off, leaving him alone. Her back was turned when Remus finally spurred into action, transforming the whole pitch into exactly what Severus deserved. She spun around with one thought and one thought only - suits him right.   
***

“You sneak to the locker room with the Cloak, alright? Get their uniforms while you’re there,” Remus instructed Peter. “Sirius and I will hide under the staircase for the time being. You can meet us. Then transform so we’ll fit, and we’ll make our ascent,” he grinned at the thought of what they were to do. Both Sirius and Peter returned the smile. It was another one of those unforgettable times - in which mischief lived and breathed in every one of them. He cast his gaze to the little building where James was probably giving a fervent speech in hopes of transferring the emotion to him.

“Okay. The best of luck to you, my good sir,” Sirius bowed him off like a posh fool, handing him the Cloak. Peter reciprocated the motion, leaning over so far that his hand swept across the grass in a quick motion. They dissolved into giggles for the next couple seconds, then getting back to their tasks and going to their assigned stations. 

They watched Peter off. His plan was to freeze the Whomping Willow and disappear under the Cloak there - the rest of the terrain too open. It merely rustled its branches at him when he got close. They’d found that it acted nicer to them, considering their monthly visits, and saw the case in point when he disappeared without a scratch. 

Sirius dragged him along to their hiding place. They had to sprint across the pitch before anyone else could walk by and see. Once they were there, they breathed heavily, doubling over at the exercise they weren’t used to. Remus leaned on him and laughed at how tired he was.

“Did that hurt your hip?” Sirius seemed concerned, casting his gaze down to it before looking back in his eyes.

“Not too much. Just general wear and tear, yeah?”

He looked relieved. Remus smiled convincingly, also squeezing his shoulder. They fell into a more natural conversation after that. A muffliato was cast so the steady stream of people above them wouldn’t be drawn to the voices that were mysteriously below. 

“I can’t wait to see Sniv’s face,” Remus sniggered. “Hell, does he deserve it-”

“Shh! Speak of the devil,” Sirius pointed above them. Severus had stopped and turned to say something to Evans, the words almost not caught. He fell back into the shadows so Remus could listen. He could always hear better out of the two of them.

“-How’d you know he was one?” Lily’s voice sounded skeptical and higher than normal. Anger. He tuned in again when Snape was talking, breath hitched with anticipation. He met her gaze briefly from below as he swallowed back hot tears. 

“-Out for blood!” his voice cut in. “Evil, filthy-”

Remus stopped listening. Blood pounded in his ears, the fact that Snape knew repeating itself over and over to him. He supposed the scars and random disappearances had never helped him conceal the secret, but what was he to do about that? None of it would stop - no matter how much he could (and did) try. He was wrenched back to the present when Sirius asked him what was wrong. 

“I’m fine, Pads,” was all he said.  
Sirius nodded. He put his hands on his shoulders, not wanting to hug him but not wanting to let go, either. He tried not to let his concern show on his face (since he’d already asked him about his hip), instead settling for intensely studying him, verifying that his words were true. 

“That bastard needs to pay, alright? This is going to be the best bloody prank there’s ever been,” Sirius assured him. “Whatever he said, I’ll get him for it. One day - if not today.”

They were interrupted just as Sirius was going to go for it - to wrap his arms around him. Of course, they’d hugged before, but this felt more intimate. Being alone, hidden, when Remus was already upset. Yet, he couldn’t, because Peter was bounding towards them, saying “It worked! It worked!” in his most gleeful tone. All was forgotten as the plan truly set into motion.  
***

James stepped out on the familiar pitch, his entire team in tow. They completed the last of their superstitions. He stayed silent and in the middle of the pack, looking out to see the state of the looming stands. All of the signs that appeared were equal between teams, snakes and lions still distinguishable. He was about to give up hope until Madam Hooch marched towards them.

“Mr. Potter, instruct your team to warm up, please.”

“Where’s Slytherin?” he asked innocently. 

“They’ve had some... uniform malfunctions, I suppose. I’m about to go deal with an extremely outraged Regulus Black, so please excuse me.”

He kept his face passive. Once she turned away, he pumped his fist in triumph, then sending the six others up into the sky. They flew around aimlessly (he secretly admired this aspect of the plan, too, considering it visibly lessened their tensions), sometimes drifting to the stands for friends to wish them luck. He made his way over to Evans to blow her a kiss (who was already angry - storming down the Slytherin steps). His glasses were hexed to the ground. As he went to retrieve them, oohs and aahs sounded everywhere. That, and immense booing. 

His smile stretched to show off one that rivaled Gilderoy Lockhart’s. All around him were Gryffindor banners and Slytherins madder than Regulus could ever be. Severus was running towards him at high speed, but he forced him to not get within a few feet with a simple flick of his wand. He figured that this was the image that Remus was trying to convey when he’d tried explaining what bulls looked like during a drunken Hogsmeade outing. 

“This is all your fault, Potter!” he screamed. The next moments would be ones he was sure he’d never forget. His face worked up in a rage, spit falling from his mouth, his hooked nose never looking more punchable. The roars nearly drowned it out, but he was unfortunate to catch the horrible words that spilled from his lips. “That, and your stupid, half-breed companion!”

James' lips smoothed into a thin line. His brow furrowed, his mind working in overdrive to prevent the nastiest of curses from being sent his way. All of the sudden, Lily was there, pushing him out of the way to have a go at him herself.

“You know nothing, Sev!” she yelled. “Absolutely nothing.” 

“Miss Evans-” Professor Slughorn’s voice interrupted. He was right alongside McGonagall, keen on stopping one of his favorite students from making a fool of herself while the entire school was watching. She pushed him, too, intent on getting her point across.

“We’re done! This is done! If you’re going to say slurs about Remus, then I’m never talking to you again!”

“Lily-”

James watched the whole thing happen. He tried not to grin as six years of waiting unfolded. This, in itself, was the physical embodiment of his attraction to Evans. Why he messed his hair in front of her, why he charmed love notes to follow her every Valentines’ Day, and why he got her a birthday present every year - no matter how much she refused. They were horribly alike in the sense of loyalty, despite her wanting to deny it until her dying day. 

“God! Don’t come near me or Remus ever again. I’ll hex you to next month if you even consider it.”

She cast a silencing spell on him for good measure, turning around and bumping into James. Her face looked as red as her hair. For a brief moment, she appeared disgusted, then muttered, 

“Good luck, Potter,” before running off to the Gryffindor’s stands.   
***

The game was triumphant - or at least for the Gryffindors. If people were stressed before the game, it was nothing compared to the actual thing. Their first announcer - a seventh year Gryffindor - had gotten so heated when Slytherin scored twice in a row that he was sacked. Sirius replaced him, mysteriously tipsy with Remus Lupin at his side, there to keep him in check so they wouldn’t be thrown out, too.

“OI, POTTER! YOU’RE ON DEFENSE!” he started off, hollering into the magical microphone. “STOP MAKING EYES AT EVANS FOR ONE BLOODY SECOND!”

Remus shushed him in the midst of laughing himself senseless. He may have accepted two shots of firewhiskey in celebration of everything working out, along with needing to forget about Severus for a moment. James ended up flipping off the box where they were stationed, which only made him giggle more.

“It looks like dearest Reggie-” a boo from the Slytherins, who were still decked out in the brightest red and gold. “-is going for the snitch, but will miss it by a hair on account of being too busy checking out Narcissa’s arse.”

“That’s enough, Black!” McGonagall’s voice said across the stadium. She had taken the microphone from him.

“I’d say the same,” he ducked in for just long enough to say that, a smirk on his face. She looked exasperated at his antics. Remus, on the other hand, seemed like he was about to collapse from wheezing so hard. 

“That’s my cousin!” he shouted back eventually. He whizzed by in hot pursuit of the snitch again. For the moment, they had no commentator, everyone squabbling over who was getting booted. McGonagall resigned herself with the promise that they’d both get detention for a week if there were any more swears. 

All in all, it only raged on for a few more minutes. Everyone’s breath seemed to catch as Mary Macdonald - their seeker - raced Regulus, eventually pulling out of an impressive dive that sent him spiraling. The stadium got impossibly louder when people began to realize that she’d emerged with the snitch. Gryffindor had won 170-40.


	3. The Moon

Tuesday the 13th was Remus’ least favourite day of April, that year. He twitched uncomfortably at loud noises, scratched a scar on the inside of his forearm, desperately wanted to return to the dormitory in the hours he was away from it, and was glad that Sirius remained at his side as much as he could. It would be the first moon since the beginning of fifth year term that he wouldn’t have his companions with him. The constant thought only made his pre-moon symptoms worsen.

Everyone’s excitement about Quidditch and the prank had died down while the end of year exams loomed. Especially for the Marauders, since they’d be responsible for a certain number of OWLs each in order to advance to next years’ subjects. James and Sirius had still been skiving off study sessions, but Remus and Peter had a schedule down, at this point.

His anxiety was only worsened when the moon hastened this routine.

“Let’s go back upstairs, Rem,” Sirius nudged him along before their last two classes of the day, voice gentle. He was the only one who truly knew what he faced, despite not understanding it. It was hard for Remus to want to resist confiding in him when the help he received took loads of weight from his shoulders. “Pomfrey’ll excuse you from Divination and Potions. I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah,” he worried his bottom lip between his teeth while they walked. He hadn’t wanted to tell him that he’d gotten permission to take the entire day for himself. Unlike James and Sirius, though, he had to be present and attentive during entire lessons to get as high of marks as them. He knew that his decision to go (if he had told them) wouldn’t have gone over well with any of them, especially not Sirius.

“Will you stay up here with me?” he asked as they walked up the steps, nearly at their room. He didn’t want to be the only one (out of the four of them) gone from classes ever since Snape had discovered his secret. The thought of missing at all made him nervous, but there was nothing he could do other than hope Snape would write it off as them skipping for fun.

“‘Course. What would you like to do?”

“Read, maybe. Sleep.”

“What a surprise. Moony’s going to _read_ when he feels like shite,” he teased. “Come sit with me, at least.”

He patted the bed, pulling him into the circle of his arms when he got there. It was days like these that he knew Remus needed him - whether or not he admitted it. They settled in their newfound spots. Sirius unearthed a book that Remus had left on his nightstand from when they’d last read together, handing it to him so he’d have the choice of reading silently or aloud. He chose silently for the time being.

Sirius’ hold on him loosened while he lost himself in the moment. The room was completely silent except for the ticking of his wristwatch, Remus’ and his light breathing, and the frequent turn of a page. It was a nice contrast to the rest of the day. That, and something that was crucial. Remus had always been known for his down time. He was one who’s day would be ruined if he didn’t get a couple of hours to himself when he was feeling normal. Moons only intensified this feeling. Sirius felt special for being included in such a private practice.

When he was out of his haze, he saw that the book was laid against Remus’ chest. He was asleep. His hand was with Sirius’, slipping further out of its grasp as he slept on.  
***

Peter and James trudged back to the dormitory. They were laden with books for their next prank - something they agreed on to distract Sirius with, mostly so there’d be no dwelling on the fact that Remus would be alone. It was something neither of them liked the sound of, either, but had been less affected by overall. James’ initial reaction had not carried on past the first mention of it.

They were met with Remus sleeping, tucked closely to Sirius’ side while he carefully copied notes for the two of them. Peter was the first to ask why they’d skipped, not understanding Remus’ fatigue quite as well as James. James shut him up and pointed to the stack of textbooks that weighed his bag down.

“For our next prank,” he whispered. He took note of Sirius’ other hand - which was tracing circles into Remus’ knuckles. It was every so often that he conferenced with just him and Peter to encourage him to do something about their relationship. Every time, Sirius explained that he didn’t know if Remus was into blokes or not. Perhaps they’d finally gotten past that stage.

“That’ll be a nice distraction,” he exhaled. “I’ve got detention later, though, alright?”

“You’ve had lots of detention recently,” Peter pointed out suspiciously. “Whatever you do, don’t begin to think about going to the Shack. The map knows.”

He patted to where it was tucked in his robe’s pocket, beside his wand. Of course, a few corridors and rooms had yet to be finished, but Gryffindor Tower, the Great Hall, floors two, three, and four, and the Whomping Willow/Shrieking Shack had been filled in. They had yet to track any more than a quarter of the students, as well, but Sirius was among those taken care of.

“Yeah, Pads. Don’t risk it, okay? You know what’s at stake,” James added pointedly with a look from him to Remus, who’d just begun to stir.

“Wha’ at stake?” Remus asked sleepily, his voice soft. He looked up at Sirius, fighting the urge to squeeze his hand. He’d been the most comfortable he thought he could get at this stage in the game before being interrupted by the voices. However quiet they were, the wolf that stewed in him didn’t mind. They had still been loud enough to wake him.

Sirius shot a glare at James, who looked anything but sheepish.

“Nothing. You’re ready to go soon, yeah? Pomfrey said I could walk you.”

“Did she really, Padfoot?” James raised his eyebrows, a ghost of a smug smirk on his lips. “I find that hard to believe.”

“She did, Prongs,” Sirius flipped him off, but the gesture didn’t have as much heat behind it as he intended. Everything he did (or, at least to James and Peter) was much gentler when Remus was so close to him. They found it hard to grasp he could ever harbor such animosity with the circumstances.

“Yeah. Dunno why, though. It’s usually always her,” Remus spoke up.

Sirius coughed. James gave him another curious look.

A few minutes later, James and Peter were left in the dormitory to watch their retreating backs. They half-heartedly got out the rest of the materials needed to plan. Although the point had been to take Sirius’ mind off of things, it was also to get back to their regular Marauders activities. OWLs had taken too much of a toll on half of their members.

Eventually, James did what all of them called “The Potter sigh”. It was done when things weren’t going his way, and in preparation of change. Peter stiffened at the sound of it. He was rather content at going forwards with what they had planned, but knew he’d be roped into whatever his friend cooked up.

“We need to find out where Padfoot’s been going.”

“Too right, Jamesie,” Peter agreed, sounding horribly alike to the subject of their conversation. He grinned toothily when James gave him an incredulous look.

“You’re the sneakiest, so would you mind following him with the Cloak and map?”

“‘Course.”

He pulled the map from his robes, tapping it with murmured words so it would display its contents. Hogwarts came alive before his very eyes. It made both of their eyes light up everytime, looking like Muggles when first presented with magic. In their defense, the level of skill needed to create as much as they did was impeccable. That, and they weren’t slowing down in progress in the least.

Sirius, by the looks of it, was disappearing into the Willow. Remus trailed close behind. They stopped for a few moments (probably checking that no one had tried to follow) before continuing down the dirty path. Peter shuddered at what was bound to happen. He hated focusing on Remus’ condition for more than he absolutely had to.

As Sirius had promised, he left Remus alone in the Shack. Peter was glad when he was getting closer and closer to the castle, since the little tag labeled “Moony” was pacing wildly across the wood floors. A pang of guilt washed over him when he remembered how easily he’d obliged to stay away during moons. Of course, it had been in support of Remus’ wishes, but it still felt wrong.

“He’s going down in the direction of the Hospital Wing,” James pointed out, huddling closer so they could both have an equal viewpoint. “There’s nothing else down there.”

“A broom cupboard, maybe?”

“Not all of us snog birds when we’re hidden in plain sight,” James said haughtily. “Especially not those who are in love with our best mate.”

“Wait - love? When did he ever say he loved Remus?”

“You’re slow on the uptake, Pete. It was after the Quidditch final. ‘Member how drunk-?”

“Shh! Look!”

Sirius had stopped at Pomfrey’s office, pacing for a few seconds. Then he went in. Presumably, she’d invited him there, but they had charmed the map to include her, yet. There weren’t many foreseeable scenarios where they’d need her presence (until now, that is).

“Go, Wormtail! You have to see why he’s there.”

“I can’t make it in time!”

“You could catch him on the way back.”

“And admit we were spying? Yeah, sure, Prongs,” he rolled his eyes in a Remus-like fashion. James fell silent, brow furrowed while he considered what to do. By the time he’d come out his stupor, Peter had the map and Cloak outstretched.

“You can run faster than I.”

“Fine.”  
***

“You’re back from detention early,” James said, leaning on the curve of the wall next to a suit of armour. He said this as soon as he caught sight of Sirius, intent on surprising him but also getting down to the bottom of the mystery. The boy opposite him jumped, hiding what looked like a small book. There was a simple drawing of a wand emitting light red sparks from it on the cover.

“Why’re you out here, Prongs? I thought you were planning a prank,” he breathed. It came out more jumbled together than he would have liked. Sirius was usually not one for acting anything less than smooth.

“Never without Padfoot. We were waiting for you, so I decided to go for a stroll.”

He was glad Peter had forced him into going, since there’s no way the shorter boy would have been able to seem so nonchalant about things. Still, his lies (that he made up on a whim) were more natural than anticipated. It pushed him to give him a little smirk.

“What’ve you got?” he added.

“It’s… just a book. Got it from Pomfrey.”

“From detention?”

“Yes. From detention,” his voice sounded faint and shaky - unsure. James felt a guilty pang when he realized when he’d heard that voice before. He was making him react the same as Walburga Black did when he was under her menacing stare.

The other Marauders had only seen the family dynamic a handful of times, but it hadn’t been remotely good. His insides had twisted while his mother had given him a forehead kiss one time on platform 9 ¾. Behind him, Walburga and Orion Black had been reprimanding their eldest son for not doing better on exams. Even though he’d been at the top, he hadn’t been the top. The memory made him shudder.

“Pads, you don’t have to show me. I’m sorry.”

“No. ‘S’alright.”

He handed him the book, intertwining his fingers with each other and focusing hard on them once he’d done so.

James fell silent as he flipped through it. It was titled A Magical Guide to Dark Injuries - meaning one of very few things. He opened it and saw the majority of it filled with information on werewolves. Chapters and pages were full of it. Sirius watched him with his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting for him to turn it over so he could get back to going over it alone.

“How come we’ve never come across this?” he asked.

“Pomfrey said they took it out of the library when someone complained it painted ‘half-breeds’ in a more positive light. It’s about tending to them post-transformation, don’t you see? She saved it from being destroyed for Remus.”

Oh. Everything started to piece itself together, bit by bit. He wasn’t in detention, he was helping Remus. Yet, he wanted to hear the words for himself before running off to tell Peter his conclusions.

“Why do you have it?” he settled on saying.

“I- I wanted to help Moony. In the morning,” he decided to tell James everything, not keen on keeping the secret from him and Peter any longer. Although he felt put upon by him acting so out of character (by treating him like Snivellus, he tried not to tell himself), he wanted him to know. They were still best mates. “That’s where I’ve been all of those nights - learning how to heal from Pomfrey. She said that it was good practice in case that’s what I wanted to pursue, but said that the reasons behind it made me have to keep quiet. I didn’t want to tell you guys because it’s just-” he sighed. “It feels private.”

“I won’t tell Pete,” James had changed his mind while Sirius spoke. He felt the intimacy from the way the other boy described it, not wanting to taint it any further.

“You can, I suppose. He’d never rat me out.”

There was a beat of silence. Then he added,

“Can I have the book back? I wanted to practice some more before tomorrow.”

“Yeah, ‘course. M’sorry, again, Sirius.”

“Stop feeling bloody sorry for me, you bird. C’mere,” he pulled him into a tight hug, hexing his glasses a size too large in the process. Although he was no longer so upset, James deserved to have his ego deflated just a bit more.  
***

Dew still clung in droplets to blades of grass as Sirius made his way to the Shrieking Shack. He had been instructed to go the second the moon fell from the sky (Remus transformed back when that would happen) so there wouldn’t be a soul awake to see him. Other than Madam Pomfrey, that is. He’d let the others know, of course, and told them to keep the map on them at all times in case of emergency. The antique mirror James had enchanted was stored in his pocket, charmed to heat up if he had to contact him. They weren’t worried about anyone else in the school except for one: Severus Snape. Sirius continued to be in the dark about what he said about Remus the day of the Quidditch final, but figured he could never be too careful with someone like that. He tapped the Whomping Willow with a long stick in silence, trying not to dwell on what could go wrong.

The tunnel was winding and ominous. He prepared himself for what he’d see when he got there - but made sure to note that it wouldn’t be anything he hadn’t already encountered in previous months. That, and he could always get Madam Pomfrey if he needed help. He promised himself that he wouldn’t resort to that, though, because he couldn’t fail. Not for Remus. He wanted to succeed alone.

His heart panged when he entered the Shack. He would never get more used to the broken floorboards, destroyed furniture, and dusty piano that lie in the corner. His breath hitched when he saw what had become of his best friend over the course of the night. The wolf must have missed its pack that day, considering the toll it took on Remus. He sighed softly and covered the lower half of his body in a nearby blanket to be courteous. Even that was tattered.

“Remus,” he shook him gently, touching the wounds that were inflicted on the right side of his torso. Hoping Remus would remember that he was the one taking care of him this time (they’d discussed it when he walked him to the Shack the previous night), he tried again. “Hey, Rem, wake up.”

He barely stirred. Sirius cursed, getting back to work in hopes that healing the multitude of cuts and bruises would help wake him. Usually, Remus was awake by the time they’d all transformed back, so he wasn’t used to the body before him being so lifeless. The only time he’d seen someone out so cold was when he’d convinced Regulus to sneak out one night to see a Muggle girl. Walburga’s wrath had extended throughout the following weekend, curses he’d never heard of before being shouted at him. Things had never been the same between them after that.

He shook himself. Being so guilty about that wouldn’t help Remus. That, and the stress that now coursed through his veins would affect the spells he was about to cast if he didn’t calm down. Soothing himself like he would one of his friends in a time of need, he got back to him, fixing his ribs first. They were nearly visible with his skinny frame, appearing slightly altered from the last time he’d seen him shirtless. Something must have been damaged.

There was complete silence as he patched Remus up, save for both of their breaths. The April air was not nearly as forgiving as he would have expected it to be. A chill captivated the entire shabby room, making his breath visible. Remus’ would have been, too, if his mouth were even the least bit open.

Eventually, Remus awoke, propping himself up on his sturdier arm and tousling his hair. He uttered a “Hullo,” with a sore voice. _From the howling_ , Sirius thought. Returning it, he continued to crouch over his chest.

Remus winced when he moved too fast, being met with Sirius’ arms around him.

“Sorry,” he caught his breath. “Just stings.”

“You’re okay, Rem. I’ve got you.”

He allowed himself to be moved against the wall. Being propped up against it helped loads. From there, they sat with each other for a few seconds, both of Sirius’ hands still resting on him. His left hand was on the small of his back, his right absentmindedly tracing lines on his forearm, careful to stray from scars. Neither dared to move away - or until something more pressing called for it.

“How was it?” Sirius asked.

“I don’t remember anything,” he shrugged. “which is the same as always, I suppose. How much is broken, you think?”

“Here,” Sirius splayed his hand across the side of his rib, the touch light enough to not disturb him further. “But I’ve already started fixing it. The rest is just bruising, really. Does it hurt?”

“Not bad. S’nothing I’m not used to.”

Sirius nodded. Remus shifted his weight so he could lean on him a bit more, giving up at trying to keep the distance between them friendly. It was too much effort on a regular basis, let alone post-moon. He smiled and closed his eyes again when it was reciprocated. Sirius placed an arm around him, resuming the healing with just one hand. If either of them had been in their right mind, they would have noticed how close they’d become.

“Can I have my jumper?”

“Sure,” Sirius breathed, surprised at the sudden noise. He was wrenched from his reverie. Handing him the bag with his clothes, he said, “Here.”

“Is this yours?”

“Must’ve gotten confused with yours, I suppose.”

Remus’ hair was even more tousled when he emerged from the head hole of it. A smile stretched across his tired face as he adjusted it, noticing it clashed horribly with the season. It was one of Euphemia Potter’s famous, hand-knitted Christmas sweaters. Sirius smiled, too, pulling him closer.

“D’you think I’m healed?”

“Just let me-” He reached under his shirt and pressed a single finger to a newly raised scar. With no more than a small rustle from Remus, he nodded in contentment. Pictures of what to look out for when determining how healed something was had been one of the largest chapters in A Magical Guide to Dark Injuries. It had indicated what he’d just seen. Little to no discomfort, a thin line across where the cut once lay, and no traces of blood. He thanked whatever God was out there that he was successful.

“Thank you,” Remus said. He took his hand, making a point to intertwine their fingers, this time.

“‘Course, Moons. Anything for you.”  
***

“Lily,” Severus held out a hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“What are you-?” she immediately glared at him.

“Just-”

“What’s the problem, Snivellus?” James sneered, appearing out of nowhere. He swaggered over to them. Lily cursed the fact that she couldn’t deal with Snape by herself any longer, but something bloomed in her stomach at the fact it was Potter who intruded. Then she stopped herself again, realizing what she’d just thought. About Potter. For the second time in two weeks.

“I was just talking to my friend, James.”

“You’re not my friend!” she protested. “Not anymore!”

James tossed an effortless grin over his shoulder. The bloody idiot. She continued to stare forwards, hoping she wouldn’t blush.

“Dearest Lily here-” Lily? she questioned herself. He never calls me anything other than Evans. “-doesn’t seem to want your company. Go along, you slimy git.”

“And it seems that Remus hasn’t wanted yours. Not since last night, anyways,” it was his turn to smile at Lily. Instead of feeling confused and flustered, she threw back a disgusted expression. It had become somewhat of an instinct ever since the Quidditch match.

“That means nothing, Sev,” Lily said coldly. She stepped closer to James by instinct. Knowing what he was about to say next, she wanted to have as much leverage as possible to curse him senseless. Her ears braced to hear the awful slur roll off his tongue like it was natural.

“Really? To me, that means he’s the filthy half-breed I suspected him to be.”

Before she could react, James was shoving his wand near his throat, holding him against the wall. A small crowd of people had stopped to see what was happening. Even they knew that James Potter was never one to resort to punching someone for what they’d said. Hexing, maybe, but never physical.

“What did Lily say?” he said, keeping his voice impossibly even.

“Wha-?” Snape paled. He looked around, trying to find a familiar face in the circle of people. Lucius, Narcissa, Regulus. None of them were there. There were only a handful of Gryffindors and two Ravenclaws.

“At the match. I think I remember her saying you know nothing. Does that ring a bell?”

He nodded fervently.

“She was right.”

He left him to gasp for air, stalking off and refusing to answer any nosey people’s questions.  
***

“Pads. Here. Tonight. Wormy’s getting the firewhiskey,” James muttered to Sirius in the common room, looking around to make sure no one else was listening. He needed a distraction ever since the altercation with Severus, and had found a solution in their mutual free period. Peter and Remus were discussing Muggle music in the dormitory when he had approached him.

“You’ve talked to him?”

“‘Course I haven’t. You know he’s always up for something, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sirius looked forward to it, but didn’t know how Remus would react. He was never one for getting drunk after the full moon. That, and hated attracting any more attention to himself than strictly necessary. James could see the doubt starting to cloud the hopeful expression he’d had. Shaking his shoulders, he said,

“Come on. We all need a good night.”

“What for?”

“Just- ‘cause of the full, and everything.”

“If that’s the only reason why, then it’s not a very good one. Moony won’t enjoy himself very much,” Sirius’ eyes narrowed. He tried to see past this excuse to find James’ true reason. It didn’t work.

“Sniv and I had a fight, earlier, too.”

“And? That happens at least once a week, Prongs.”

“Well, uh, it was about Remus.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Sirius tried to deduct what problem Snape could possibly have with him, but turned up with nothing. Sighing, he figured he would never get to what had actually happened. There was no way it could have been about one of the quietest, secretly mischievous, bookish boys in their year, unless…

“Bugger off, would you?” James told off a fourth year that he recognized from earlier. “We’re talking. In private.”

“James,” Sirius’ voice lowered. “Is this because he’s a-?”

A sharp nod of his head told him everything he needed to know. He put his head in his hands, wondering when the slimy heathen would stop meddling with them.

“Don’t tell Remus, okay? I want him to have a good night.”

“I already told you he won’t like it.”

“Not if it’s just us. And Lily,” he added with a sheepish grin. Sirius perked up at this. He gave him an incredulous look and it was confirmed with a nod.

“Everyone!” Sirius dramatically increased the volume of his voice. “James Fleamont Potter has gone absolutely bloody insane!”

“Shut up! It took incredible luck and my precious charm to get her to agree. Still on the basis of helping Remus, but that’s better than nothing.”

“Your charm?” he snorted. “I’d reevaluate after the last five years, Jamesie.”

“She finally realized I’m less slimy than the Slytherin git, so I’d say that aspect of it is now in consideration.”

“True, true.”

“What about the Slytherin git?” Remus interjected. On instinct, Sirius placed his arm around him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment to lean into the much needed touch. Walking downstairs and feigning nonchalance through his pain had already used up all the minimal energy he harbored.

“Evans finally decided she fancies James over him.”

“Fancies?” both James and Remus questioned.

“Well, she doesn’t find him entirely insufferable, anymore. By the rules of our beloved Prongs, he is now highly desired by her.”

“I see. And how’d this come to be?” Remus turned to look at him, seething a little at how his jumper (still the one confused with Sirius’) rubbed against a bruise. He was grateful when Sirius walked them over to a couch.

“Snape called her a slur between classes, that’s all. I gave him a good hexing for it, one to rival hers,” James lied. “She agreed to drink with us tonight, which brings me to our next point. D’you wanna hang out with us down here? It’ll just be her, Pete, Sirius, and I.”

“I suppose so. She won’t question my exhaustion, will she? I’d rather not make this night hell, too.”

“We’ll make sure of it. Just say you don’t want to be hungover on a school night. ‘Sounds like you already,” James patted his shoulder fondly.  
***

Remus spent the rest of his day on the couch, reading books that Peter brought back to him from the library. It wasn’t centralized in the least, stowed away in the corner from any prying eyes and ears. He was able to sleep when he wanted, discuss pranks when the Marauders would come back to check on him, and hide under a blanket, thinking about the upcoming night. This would be the first party he’d be attending that was separate from post-Quidditch or exclusive Marauder get-togethers. For once, he found himself looking forward to the company. The moon would be out of sight and out of mind.

He put down the battered copy of Frankenstein (a classic he liked to reread from time to time), looking out thoughtfully over the quiet room. There were a few people milling about, but mostly going from one place to another. He was entertaining the idea of sleep once more until Mary MacDonald and Marlene McKinnnon decided to set themselves on either side of him.

“Hey, Mary. Hi, Marlene,” he said politely, not wanting to seem more strange than he already was. At least, he was fairly certain that lessons were almost over. It would be an easy lie to tell as to why he was taking residence on the secluded couch.

“Hi, Remus,” Marlene replied. “Lily was telling us about hanging out with Potter tonight, and we were wondering if we could tag along,” she batted her eyelashes - a silly girl thing that he promised himself to never get used to. If it was supposed to get him to agree, it wouldn’t work. The only reason he played with the idea is because they weren’t as annoying as some others (mostly Sirius’ ex-girlfriends), and that he’d hate for Lily to be everyone’s focus for the entire night.

“Um, sure. I dunno what time-”

“Sirius said eight,” Mary interrupted.

“Then why are you asking me?”

“He told us to. ‘Said that he didn’t want to make the decision alone, or something.”

Remus felt the corners of his mouth turn up, knowing that was Sirius-speak for “I don’t want to upset Moony.” (a phrase he said often when the others were discussing their next boisterous idea and Remus was dozing off). It made him much more open to the idea, especially since Sirius didn’t appear to be making rabid decisions with the end goal of taking one of them to bed. If that were his intentions, Remus would have been left completely in the dark about them showing up.

“See you then?” he settled for asking, wanting to wrap things up.

“See you!” Marlene said cheerily. They stood up, Mary turning back and waving for a brief second. He was left to bask in the small victory of her words, then drift off into another sleep in preparation for the night.  
***

“Remus,” the same voice as the morning was saying, a warm hand on his shoulder.

Another person joined in - talking about dinner. He made a muffled noise against a pillow, sinking deeper into the cushions. Sleep was still so close, he was so tired, and his joints were so sore. There was incredible contemplation about ignoring them and going back to sleep. Upon waking, he’d felt the full effects of the moon again, something that shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Madam Pomfrey always fretted over rehealing any wounds that could have opened up. Sighing softly, he hoped that one of them would notice that he couldn’t get up.

“Moony,” Sirius tried again, gentler this time. “It’s half past seven. You have to get up.”

The weight of the couch dipped down. Sirius must have sat beside him. Shaking his head to try and convey his feeling, he heard nothing more, only noticing Sirius’ fingers begin to detangle his curls one by one. Then there was talking again, but he elected to ignore it upon guessing that it wasn’t directed at him. It wasn’t long until he was back asleep.

“Do you think we need Pomfrey?” Sirius looked up at James, eyes a bit wider with concern. “He seems… I dunno. Not right.”

“Let’s try sitting him up, first. Did she ever say this could happen?”

“She said she’ll usually check him again, but didn’t go into much detail. Can you help?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

They carefully propped him against the backrest of the sofa. He immediately leaned on Sirius, saying “S’hurting,”. Sirius soothed him and continued to comb his fingers through his hair. James sat close beside, extending his arm across his shoulders for more support.

“Should we say he already drank?”

“Lily knows that’s not like him, Prongs. They’ve gotten a bit closer recently. Let’s just try and wake him. He’ll tell us what he wants.”

He turned back to Remus.

“Rem? It’s time to wake up, okay?”

Remus nodded halfheartedly, bleary-eyed when he looked at him. He winced at the pain that had just decided to return to his ribs, pressing the spot after Sirius asked where he was hurt. A spell later and it had returned to being on the back burner.

“‘M so sore, Pads. Can’t get up.”

“D’you want to go back to the dorm?” James offered.

“Too far.”

“What about Pomfrey?”

“I need Pepperup, please.”

Sirius grabbed the vile of it from his bag (Madam Pomfrey had given it to him as a “just in case” measure). He handed it to Remus, who took the foul tasting thing like it was nothing. The entire time, he surveyed him closely, his hand feeling his forehead to check for a fever. James was observing him the same. His motherly concern was shining through in more force than it usually did, reflecting how Sirius felt.

Once Remus had drunk half of it, he set the remainder of the potion back where he’d gotten it from. Then pulling the bag closer, he figured it couldn’t hurt to give him some more later in the evening. He was sure that the symptoms wouldn’t entirely subside with just one dose of it. They sat in mostly silence, listening to Remus’ breathing evening out the closer they got to eight.

He said he would be back to being alright within a few minutes. For the time being, he was incredibly grateful that he could lean on Sirius and James. Once his senses were being restored and the pain was subsiding, it was quarter ‘till. It would only be a matter of moments until the others were joining him. Perfect timing, he thought sarcastically, they get to see me as a complete mess.

“I brought you a new jumper,” Sirius said while Remus stretched his arms.

“Thanks.”

It was pale blue - the one that went best with his sandy and brown hair, along with his eyes (which were similarly coloured). He looked less washed out in it than any other sweater, considering it wasn’t too bright. His face no longer appeared to be drowning in new scars. Instead, he looked a bit tanner, especially with the room’s warm lighting.

He felt his face flush when he took off his original jumper (which was still the one borrowed from Sirius). It wasn’t often he allowed his friends to see him shirtless - other than post-transformation. Fortunately, Sirius poked James hard enough that he got the message to turn away. He changed in peace, telling them they could turn back once the garment was properly situated. He was right in his guess that it did his features a favour. From there, he was back to resting, knowing he would have to invent the energy that the Pepperup hadn’t restored. He barely noticed Peter come back through his regained stupor.

“-and chocolate,” he said, outstretching his hand, which was holding a bag of Honeydukes’ best. “Remus?”

“Right - sorry. Thanks, Pete,” Remus took it gratefully. It had been hours since he last had some, his previous stash having ran out when he was still upstairs with Peter. They had been halfway through a Bowie album when he realized. Swearing had ensued, which was what posed him to come downstairs in the first place. Of course, though, he’d forgotten to ask Sirius to get him some.

“You’re the best,” James clapped him on the back. “How’d you manage seven bottles?”

“You know Rosmerta’s always liked my boyish charm,” he grinned. “She was able to give me enough for everyone once I reminded her about your quest to bed Evans.”

“Not bed!” he said haughtily. “She’s my one true love-”

“Who’s your one true love?” Lily had appeared, eyes narrowed and her eyebrow quirked. She dissolved into giggles when James looked horrified, apologizing immediately. “God, Potter, I wasn’t even being serious.”

“That’s a good thing, cause-” Sirius started.

Remus gave him a weak punch to the stomach, muttering, “Shut up.”

“-I’m Sirius.”

They all groaned, to which he said,

“You know you love me!”

“I know I don’t,” Mary sighed. She sat on an armchair that was next to the couch, catching Peter’s eye for a brief second. If he hadn’t been visibly gaping at how she looked in a pretty top and jeans, none of them would have noticed it. Remus snorted and noticed silent laughter coming from Sirius, who was still beside him.

“Alright!” James stood before them (Marlene had walked in with Mary). “We have a few rules for tonight. One, have fun. Two, keep this between us seven. And three, think of some wicked party games for us! We’ll have to put up with Moony’s god awful Muggle music-”

“-You’re the only one that dislikes it!-”

“-but the rest of the night is up to us.”

They cheered, beginning to pass around drinks. Peter unearthed a formidable looking bag of food that was laid out on the table between them. The three girls were still huddled together, but slowly spreading out across the area to make it their own. Remus and Sirius were on the couch together, conversing softly enough for no one else to hear and splitting chocolate frogs. Finally, with humbleness none of them expected, James didn’t sit so close to Lily that he was breathing down her neck. He chose the unoccupied chair across from Mary’s.

“Can we play ‘Truth or Dare’?” Mary spoke up, nursing her bottle of firewhiskey between her hands. She gave a pointed look to Peter, who blushed. “We’ll start off easy.”

Remus put on the first album while they started. He chose something popular - Fleetwood Mac’s self titled. It wasn’t his favourite, but was good in the sense that it could be in the background. Humming along to the opening song (Monday Morning), he hardly noticed Lily complete the first round. She’d chosen truth. Then, she was giving James a dare, it being glaringly obvious that she’d planned to humiliate them. Walking on a tightrope across their space of the floor was no easy feat. It drew laughter from everyone when he made a spectacular fall beside Remus.

The game continued, everyone doing their fair share of each option. Remus had been lucky enough to only be asked twice - choosing truth both times. His questions (“What was your favourite prank?” and “How many times have you snogged someone?”) were easy enough. As far as favourite pranks went, charming all of the trophies to display plays on their original names had to take the number one spot. It wasn’t that memorable content wise, but had been the first one the Marauders had completed as a group. For snogging, he lied, saying three. In reality, he’d only kissed one Ravenclaw girl, but hadn’t liked it very much. He’d been too worried to sneak off with any boys, especially since he knew he wouldn’t like any of them. None of them were Sirius.

He was just starting to lay back down, intent on resting his head in Sirius’ lap for a little while. Then,

“C’mon, Moons. Pick dare for once,” Sirius was saying to him. He looked down at him with a convincing grin. In any other scenario, he would have said “absolutely not”, fearing that they’d make him stand (which he was pretty sure he was still incapable of doing). Yet, Sirius knew not to, so he nodded.

“Do your worst.”

“I dare you to… let’s see… Ooh! Kiss Marlene!”

“M’not getting up, Pads. You know that,” he whispered. He sat up, trying to convey that he could barely do that, let alone stand. This would be the worst time to let his secret loose. There were very few conceivable lies as to why he couldn’t walk.

“Get over here, Marls,” Sirius waved without breaking his smile.

“‘Marls’,” she repeated, rolling her eyes with disbelief. Within a matter of seconds, she was sitting next to him. They kissed smoothly for enough time for Sirius to be satisfied. As pretty as she was, though, Remus was long past the point of feeling any attraction to her. He was back to leaning on Sirius once they parted and she returned to Mary’s side.

“I’ll get you back for that one, Black. No offense, Remus.”

“None taken. I’d like to see revenge for that, as well,” he grinned, taking a small sip of the firewhiskey. He’d barely drank anything since the alcohol burned his already sore throat. Even the little bit made him cough. Fortunately, they were all too busy chattering to notice, allowing Remus a few moments to think of who to ask.

“Alright, Peter, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“How badly do you want to snog Mary?” he laughed while he spoke. “Scale of one to ten, Wormy. Let’s go.”

“Now I’m gonna get you, Moony. That was low,” he teased. In a quieter voice (but still louder than normal, since his empty bottle was doing the talking), he added, “Eight and a half, I suppose.”

Mary giggled and blushed.


End file.
